


"In the brain and not the chest. Head shots are the very best."

by choraki



Category: Markiplier/jacksepticeye - Fandom, Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Apocalypse, Dystopia, M/M, Septiplier - Freeform, Zombie, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:00:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choraki/pseuds/choraki
Summary: What happens when two ordinary YouTube-gamer get confronted with the end of the world as they know it? What happens when two completely normal guys get thrown into the harsh and unforgiving world of blood, death, and wandering, hungering corpses?





	1. "When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth..."

**Author's Note:**

> This is not necessarily a Markiplier/Jacksepticeye/The Walking Dead-crossover. However, the zombies may somehow resemble the zombies of said TV show.

"Okay, everything's ready and set, we can literally start."  
A bright grin appeared on Mark's face as he overlooked the setting one more time. One VR-headset complete with controllers, a computer to record, a professional camera, microphones… Everything was fully functioning and ready for them to start.  
"What do you think?"

One hand at his chin, the other arm wrapped around his middle, Jack overlooked the setting once more as well, before finally nodding his head. "Yeah, I think we're ready. So, you do the intro, I start, then we take turns, 'right?"

Considering their years long friendship and various life streams and vlogs together, Jack had decided to visit Mark once more in L.A. to produce some nice collaborations together. They would record a few Let's Plays, and he was to stay for about two weeks in total. It was a huge trip, an even bigger plan, and lots and lots of absolute horrifying organisation, considering the Irishman had to ship over his entire gaming equipment; but it would pay out in the end, the two of them were sure.

"Yeah, that's the plan," Mark replied and moved towards the camera that was supposed to record the person in charge of the VR headset. He quickly pressed a few buttons, stepped back, gesticulated for his friend to step over, and eventually took a few seconds to mentally prepare himself for the introdruction he was going to perform. A few times the Hawaiian shook himself out, took in deep face, and pulled a few grimaces in order to relax his facial muscles. All in one it didn't take too long.

"Alright, ready. Let's start this fun," Mark eventually announced, lifted his gaze, and stared into the lense of the camera with a nice, genuine smile resting on his lips.

"Hello everyone, my name is Markiplier, and welcome to Let's Play--" A loud, crashing sound interrupted the man. The both of them quite instinctively stared towards the source of the sound, apparently located towards the big windows covering one front of the room. 

"What was that?" Jack's voice sounded a little less confident than it had been barely a minute before. 

Silence overtook, expecations rose. 

Finally, Mark shrugged his shoulders, turning back to his Irish friend. "I don't know, sounded like something breaking, or something like that. Possum probably broke into a trash can. Nothing to worry about," the red-haired finally mumbled, and returned his attention to the waiting and still recording camera once more. The bright smile, that had been previously playing on his lips, quickly returned to them once more, and he lifted up his hands.

"Hello everyone, my name is--" Once again another crashing sound prevented the YouTuber from continuing that sentence, and again both them looked towards the windows. But not matter how hard they tried, they couldn't see anything suspicious going on. Eventually, Mark even moved towards the glass front in hopes of spotting the origin of said interruptions, but nothing out of order occurred to him.

"Well, that sounded a lot closer than the bang before," Jack nonetheless pointed out. Both eyebrows raised, the young gamer stepped forward as well, even if a little more cautious than his straigjt-foward seeming friend. He, too, couldn't see anything that could have caused that sound, though, and in the end he simply sighed. "Maybe we should just wait until that banging is over, before we start. It's probably not going to take too long."

And as soon as those innocent words left his lips, another, much louder bang echoed through the entire room, followed by a splashing, almost disgustingly gurgling smashing. A red tint was cast over the floor of Mark's living room, that originally illuminated by the shining sun.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"  
It was Jack's voice, that literally screamed through the entire house as he jumped back a good foot, nearly tripping over his own feet, and only barely keeping himself from falling over completely by grasping at the nearest wall.

Mark had a similar reaction, even if his yell did not consist of any swearing words, but rather expressed that severe shock ripping through his every fibre. Unlike Sean, though, he actually tripped over his own feet in his unlucky process of jumping backwards, and hit the ground behind-first, barely catching himself on his arms as he scrambled to get away from the window.

Before their very eyes a horrifying image displayed. A human body had been splashed against the glass of the window head first, and whilst the blood coated almost the entire space of glass when the body hit the surface, the man itself fell to the ground and didn't move since. No sign of being alive still left his body, not even his torso seemed to move.

It took the friends a good five minutes of doing nothing but staring at the human outside of that window, chests heaving and sinking with their loud, panicked panting. It was Jack, who eventually seemed to recall on the more rational part of his mind, and finally moved to find his phone in his trousers pockets.

"Wh-what are you doing?" asked Mark as soon as he noticed Sean dialling a number on said touchscreen.

The green-haired looked up with absolute horror mirroring in his eyes.  
"I'm calling the police! A-and an ambulance! What else am I supposed to do?!"

"P-police?"  
Perhaps it was the shock, but Mark didn't quite seem to understand the purpose and use of such an action in their current situation.  
"Th-that man's definitely dead!"

"Well, yeah, that's the reason why I want to call the police! Good god, Mark, there's someone literally _dying_ in front of your bloody house!"

Finally, as the realisation of the sheer severity of that event set in, he nodded his head slowly, until his gaze inevitably returned to the lifeless, bloodied body in front of his window. There was a small whimpering sound, before he finally managed to get back up to his feet, taking a few almost even _scared_ steps towards the glass.  
"We should probably… probably take a look at him. I-I mean, he could still be alive, right? What if he's just unconscious?"

As Jack hit the 'CALL'-button on his phone, his second hand running through his dyed hair, he nodded his head. He exhaled a breath he wasn't aware of having held it in his lungs, and began to stride forth and back in small circles, as if that single bit of movement would keep his mind occupied enough to not have a panic attack right then and there.

Oddly enough, though, it seemed to take the employees of the local police station ages to actually pick up the call. Either that, or he had dialled the wrong number; which Jack was fairly sure he hadn't. There wasn't much to fail at calling out for help. Hanging up and checking the number over once more, the YouTuber called it once again as he turned around to see how Mark was doing.

The man had simply opened the window and climbed out of it afterwards. He figured taking the front door would have taken up way too much time. As he finally reached the lifeless body, though, there was no doubt left -- that man was most definitely dead. The way his body was turned at some points, additional to the big, bleeding wound on his forehead. The eyes were still open, a gaze of absolute horror was captured in them. It took Mark simply every single last bit of self control to keep himself from giving into the nausea, that finally bubbled up in his stomach. 

"How's it going? Is he… is he still alive?"

There was no verbal answer. There was only Mark climbing back inside and taking a few steps towards his friend, the sorrow in his facial expressions clearly giving away 'how it went'. Slowly Jack's hand lowered, the line for the emergency call still on hold. His adam's apple bobbed with the dreading severity of the situation sinking into his consciousness. Both of them seemed to realise that something was wrong. More than just wrong.


	2. "Come and get it! It's a running buffet!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the apocalypse and the end of the world they knew...

" _FUCK!_ " Mark's voice echoed through the otherwise eerily quiet house. With his friend right there, the phone still in his hand, he threw his hands up and dragged them helplessly through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. Closing his eyes, his lungs desperately aching for air, the gamer gulped down the once more rising bile in his throat. He felt like giving into the nausea and emptying every last little bit of his stomach into the toilet, but he figured that wouldn't help. The disgusting feeling in the pit of his stomach would still persist. There was no way to make it go away. Not with the obvious corpse right in front of his goddamn house.

"Calm down," Jack returned, albeit way quieter than his friend. The line was still on hold; no one picked up. He hang up once more, not quite sure if he should still try calling for help. "Look, we need to think this through logically, alright? There's probably a reason for all of this, and we didn't do anything. We tried to help him, that's-- that's good. We're not--"

" _What_ on this godforsaken planet do you want to _do_ , Jack?! There's a _dead_ man right in front of my fucking window!"  
Mark's all of sudden yelling interrupted the green-haired man rather abruptly and he winced with the rather harsh volume of his friend's voice. He shut up immediately, merely staring at the other in obvious fear, irritation and uncertainty. Really, Mark was right; they both didn't know what to do, especially not if the police didn't answer their bloody call.

Mark's lips parted, he inhaled a deep breath, but right before he could start yelling again, he froze at an all of sudden sound crashing through the tense, suffocating atmosphere of their misery. Both gamers turned around towards the front door. A strange scratching and knocking sound echoed from said object, causing their eyes to widen in obvious panic.

It was Mark who actually made the decision of opening the door. With quick, motivated steps he marched towards it, ignoring Sean's tender grasping of his arm, simply shaking it away. Turning the doorknob was the worst idea he had had so far, though. The weight of two persons immediately overwhelmed the young Hawaiian. The door flung open the second he had taken away the last barrier, and two men stumbled inside, causing Mark to stumble backwards and fall onto his back. The two intruders did the very same, albeit falling frontally forward. They didn't seem as phased about the sudden pain of colliding with the ground, though. In fact, they didn't seem phased about anything other than attempting their very best at snapping their jaws shut as soon as they came close enough to Mark's body.

The brunet could only barely move up his arms to keep one of the strangers away from biting right into his neck, keeping him an arm's length away by pushing his shoulders up. An angered snarling sound emitted from the attacker's throat, follow by more snapping sounds as his teeth bit nothing but a bunch of air. His hands began to claw at Mark's clothes clumsily, and the look in his eyes… Absolutely terrifying.

Sean was taken aback by the all of sudden whirlwind of motion, shocked to witness his colleague being attacked by someone acting like a goddamn rabid dog. He could see how the man was doing his best to get to Mark's body, snapping, scratching, and growling. Was he on drugs? What in hell's name was happening?!

Right in that moment the second intruder pulled Jack's attention onto himself. Rather uncaringly he tried to scrambled back up to all fours in order to crawl closer to Mark, quite obviously intending to do the same as the other. And just then the gamer realised that Mark wouldn't be capable of fighting off both men at the same time. That he needed to assist him if he didn't want to watch him being gruesomely eaten alive.

The first object he wrapped his fingers around was a rather stabile looking frame of an old picture. Jack didn't really care what the picture was showing as he moved forward and grabbed the second stranger's shirt, pulling him roughly away from Mark. There was no defence as he drew the sharply cutting corner of the picture over the madman's head several time, blood spilling and staining the ground, his hands, and even his shirt.

Meanwhile Mark was capable of pushing the first intruder off of himself, flinging him on his back, and fighting to get back up onto his own feet. Without so much as thinking further about it, he was quick to grab Jack's wrist and pull him out of the already opened front door. He was eager to get as quickly away from here as somehow possible, his paralysed mind not capable of taking in the current situation completely just yet. 

As they reached the street, though, there was a much worse scene going on than back in their house. Front doors were opening, their inhabitants fleeing their homes as quickly as their feet could carry them. Some were armed, others were carrying loved ones, pets, or simple bags. Whilst a few tried their best at running away on foot, most of them unlocked their cars and tried to drive away. There was a crashing sound in the distance, the shattering of glass. It was clear what kind of crash it had been.

Just in that moment another growling sound found its way to Mark's ear, and as he turned his gaze to the other side, he witnessed a young woman being overwhelmed by another one, the female attacker instantly burying her teeth into her flesh and pulling out a good, bloody chunk, chewing it raw. Agonising screams and cries left the woman's throat, she struggled and threw a seeking hand out to Mark and Jack.

Mark was already about to sprint forward, when Jack's fingers snaked around his wrist tightly, pulling him back rather harshly. "Don't. She's dead--" He nearly choked on that sentence itself, tears wavering up and clouding his vision. He felt like bending over and curling up, crying and seeking for air. He didn't do that, though. His gaze gained something pleading, something helpless, and Mark was forced to let the woman right, rather turning around and starting off into the other direction. There was no time to take the car. It probably wasn't the fastest or safest way, anyway, with all the hurt and panic going on in the streets. It was a real apocalypse…


	3. "A zombie film is not fun without a bunch of stupid people running around and observing how they fail to handle the situation."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We sleep safely at night because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those who would harm us." -- or not?

As they ran through the streets of Mark's neighbourhood, desperately searching for help and cover, more and more wounded people appeared in their vision. Many were overwhelmed by madmen, eating them alive as they pleaded for mercy. Every now and then a car crashed into another or into a house's front door and the sound of shattering glass and bulging metal accompanied the noises of the apocalypse happening right in front of their very eyes.

Both their gamer's lung burned with the need of oxygen, their legs close to giving out with all the pressure and tension they put on them in favour of continuing running. None of them knew how much longer they could sprint, but they were both certain they had to, anyway. They couldn't stop. They realised fairly quickly that if they did, they would be dead in seconds. And that was an end neither of them wanted for themselves, nor for each other.

Panic and fear was evident in their faces, though, and whenever one of them lacked behind, the other would start to yell at them to go on. It wasn't easy, especially not with all the pain and hurt going on aorund them, but they knew they had to. They couldn't help anyone being torn apart by other humans, no matter how much they wanted.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of nothing but running, they came into a quieter and calmer neighbourhood. They slowed down, turning around the next corner and into a lonely alleyway. Coughing and gasping for air, the two gamers fell to their knees instantly, attempting to somehow keep themselves from fainting. If it wasn't for the sheer exhaustion soon taking over their system, they would have probably had the same reaction from the mere shock of what had happened in the past ten minutes. It even went as far as Jack actually emptying his stomach behind a trash container not far away from Mark, coughing and gagging even as his stomach had already given up all that was inside. It wasn't only his own bodily reaction, he actually _wanted_ to gag further in hopes to get everything that he had just witnessed out of his mind. Tears were running down his cheeks, and his entire body was slightly convulsing with the pure stress he was in.

Mark worked on getting back onto his feet. It wasn't easy and he felt like jelly, but he knew he had to, for Jack. Toppled over still, he staggered over to his friend and laid a hand onto his back; as if that was going to soothe all the pain the man felt right then.  
"It's okay. Let it out. Just let it out." If that would help either, Mark wasn't sure, but he hoped he could do at least a little to calm down the Irishman. They were both very sensitive when it came down to real, actual violence, but Sean always proved to be much more fragile-hearted. He was a kind, young man, who would rather mutilate himself than having to hurt anybody else. Seeing all this evil out in the open without anyone being able to help was enough to entirely traumatise him.

Just in that moment, loud engines could be heard. Mark winced at the echo of several cars driving by, and as he turned towards the opening of the alleyway, he could see military-style vehicles rushing past them. It were more than he could count in that moment, and his eyes widened in utter shock. Apparently, this wasn't just some stupid street-gang-battle gone wrong. This was a matter of national security if the military rushed through L.A. like that, and if that was the case--

"M-Mark?"

The man turned back around as soon as he heard his friend calling him. As he looked at Sean, the man had finally sat up; even if he didn't look any better than as he had been hunched over, gagging his soul out of his body.  
"What was that? Who was that?" the Irishman asked. His voice was still weak, somewhat roughened up, and fear lay in his tone. It was more than obvious that he was still scared as hell. And it seemed that this feeling wouldn't subside for a long time now…

"The military," Mark answered truthfully, still. He knew it could potentially upset Jack even more, but he preferred to stay honest in a situation like that. Sugar-coating anything wouldn't help either of them. It was probably better to handle the entire truth rather than being led to death by a stupid illusion.

"The military?" the green-haired YouTuber asked in return. His voice had indeed pitched a little at that, anxiety seeping into his tone once more, but Mark didn't really acknowledge that. Instead, Jack was being lifted to his feet by the other, even if the work was more on Mark's side.

"Yeah. That could be a good thing, though," the brunet replied, albeit with a firm undertone; as if he didn't really believe his own words, despite desperately wanting to.  
As soon as he had the other back on his feet, he pulled him towards the opening of the alleyway and started walking.

"How could that be a good thing? If the US Army is here, it's probably a very serious problem." Jack paused for a second, then continued in a much quieter tone, "As if people tearing each other apart by their bare hands wasn't a serious problem already, that is." He tried his best not to put too much weight onto his friend, but it turned out to be exceptionally hard. His body had been weakened by the entire ordeal they went through so far, and it obviously needed as much support as it could get. Besides, Mark didn't seem to really want to free Sean from his grip, anyway.

As they reached the opening of the alleyway, most of the military trucks were already gone. They were so fast and far away, that Mark had trouble spotting them in the distance. It seemed, however, that not all vehicles had gone towards his neighbourhood. When they set their second step out of that alley, a loud voice had them freezing in their tracks, immediately.

"STOP! IDENTIFY YOURSELVES!"

Shocked and surprised, Jack and Mark looked up and saw a man in a soldier's uniform pointing a rifle at them. Obviously, the man wasn't really patient, though. When they hadn't complied the first few seconds after the man had voiced out the command, the rifle was suddenly pointed towards Mark's head. A second and a third soldier exited the military truck parking not too far away from them and did the same; except pointing their guns at Jack as well.

"S-sorry, listen, we--"

"HANDS UP AND IDENTIFY YOURSELVES!" the first soldier yelled, interrupting Mark mid-sentence.

Finally, the two gamers complied. Even if reluctantly, Mark let go of Jack's arm and raised both hands. Sean did the same, though he looked alot more terrified than his friend.

"My name is Mark-- Mark Edward Fischbach, sir. A-and this is-- Seán William McLoughlin," the brunet finally stammered. He usually wasn't a man to be easily scared or impressed, but when a soldier of the US Army pointed a rifle at his goddamn head, clearly not intending to be funny at all, then Mark could very well be shitting his pants.

The soldier having spoken the entire time moved forward upon hearing their names. His two colleagues followed, and whilst one positioned themselves to keep an eye on them in front of them, the other two moved behind the two, young man to search them through. Every single limb and every single pocket were searched through until the soldiers were entirely sure that no danger was to be expected of them.

Finally, the leader of the troop spoke a little quieter, even if not necessarily calmer at that, "Where are your IDs? What's your status? Why are you here?"

Sean's gaze switched between every single soldier, and finally only between Mark and the one speaking. He was clearly more than anxious to be harmed in any way, even if the military was usually supposed to protect their citizens in a crisis like this.

"We-- we were surprised at my home by… by whatever's going on. We didn't really have the time to grab our IDs, to be honest." Mark was clearly getting more and more tensed. He still held his arms up to signalise that he meant no harm. It was the first time for the YouTuber to be in a situation like this, after all.

"You're citizens, I assume?" the soldier replied. He didn't really seem like believing the two, but at least he wasn't yelling anymore.

"Yeah. No cops, no soldiers, I don't even own a weapon, not even a knife. We're just-- citizens. W-well, Sean's from Ireland, though. I'm American."

For what felt like half of an eternity, the soldier didn't reply. He merely stared at them as if he was trying to read their minds, before finally exchanging a few looks with his comrades.  
"Fine. You're coming with us. You're now officially being evacuated by the US Army. Any acts of violence against these regulations will result in being arrested, immediately."

The two other soldiers grabbed both Mark's and Sean's upper arms and pushed them forward towards their vehicle. If this was a normal evacuation, then Mark would surely be the president of the United States…


End file.
